Trials of a King
by Lord of Judgement
Summary: Only two people knew how King Gaius was born. Wingul who had been by his side during those trials and Musee because he told her. Gaius/Musee. Edited and Revised.


**Summary**: Only two people knew how King Gaius was born. Wingul who had been by his side during those trials and Musee because he told her.

**Warning**: Violence. Moral ambiguity.

**Pairings**: Gaius/Musee.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Tales of Xillia _world, story or characters.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to** Yume Hanabi** for her extensive assistance throughout and **ay-16r**. :) Comments are most welcome xD

Without further ado, I welcome you (back) to the **_updated and edited _**version of my story. That means I fixed some names and details to make it more accurate. Ch 2,3 will follow shortly.

* * *

**List of names I keep from the original Japanese game because their localized version did not click with me at all:**

_Kanbalar – _Khan Baliq

_Auj Oule – _Ajur

_Muzet_ – Musee

_Long Dau_- Londau

_Fezebel_ - Fayzabad

_Erston_ - Arst

* * *

**TRIALS OF A KING**

_The stillness is a king of death,  
It is so still.  
Now all my strength goes out of me  
And all my will. (Laura L. Bird)._

**Part I. Premonition.**

Gaius stands by the window with a glass of wine in his hands and watches the sunset. The view from his apartment is breathtaking; like waves, billow roofs of tall buildings, fancy ridges alternating with their unobtrusive brothers of stone, and between them, like islands in the sea, clusters of trees are seen. Even sunsets in Elympios are different; or maybe he fancies them to be – crimson and saffron yellow colors of withering overshadow mauve and indigo and it seems the sky is aflame.

On Rowen's advice, he rented a very decent spacious place which suited the role of an unconcerned, rich dandy by the name of Arst Outway who never found himself in poverty or in want of women's attention. He enjoys a drink in a loud company, boasting about nonsense and cracking insipid jokes. He isn't particularly fastidious about choosing friends and wins trust with a compelling, albeit rare smile. Since he arrived to Elympios a few weeks ago, he had succeeded in finding the right people to tell him about the current leadership of the Clanspear Company and the growing fear, even hatred towards the inhabitants of Riese Maxia who frequently practice Spirit Artes. Such lifestyle is unexpectedly addicting, but he never loses sight of his goal which, like a beacon, guides him through the days of storm and lull.

Gaius brings the glass of wine to his lips and swallows its contents in one gulp, barely feeling the astringent taste.

"I am so glad you wanted to see me."

"Musee," he says with a quick glance in her direction and returns to contemplating the view. She is late, but it is partially his fault.

"What are you drinking?" She approaches soundlessly and unexpectedly snatches the glass out of his fingers. "It doesn't taste like juice… in truth, it tastes really strange, but not unpleasant and now I think I feel lighter. I never thought it was possible… Can I have more?"

"You can't." Seeing how hectic flush at once covered her pale cheeks, he hides the bottle. The image of drunken Musee is extremely uninviting and if she on a whim decides to flee from him again, there is no saying what she will do. "Forget it, I am not letting you drink," he repeats, slightly appalled by the thought.

"Ah, what a pity… I am thirsty."

"We do not drink wine when we are thirsty. We drink to relax, or to drown our grief and forget about troubles… Wine affects you unexpectedly if you are not used to it. I, for instance, cannot say whether you will become extremely happy or sleepiness will overcome you. But," he adds with faint smirk, "you can have as much porange juice as you want. Hopefully, the treasury of Ajur will suffice to satisfy your demands."

"But I prefer cherry juice."

"I do not own a restaurant, Musee…"

"I wasn't serious. porange juice is as good as cherry juice and I solemnly promise not to empty the treasury of your beloved kingdoms."

Gaius heads into the kitchen, pours a glass of cold juice and brings it to the Spirit; while she is sipping, he reclines in the armchair, crossing his legs.

"You promised to tell me about Ajur…" She asks suddenly. "I am sure you'll recall many exciting stories, but I want to know how you became a king. Since the last time we've seen each other, I've been thinking… What makes you so different from everyone else? I cannot be a king. It would have been a terrible burden, to have all these people begging me for answers. I would have hidden from them and ordered them to do whatever they wanted. How do you distinguish right from wrong? How do you bear looking into their eyes after you made a mistake?"

"You ask too many questions to which there are no unambiguous answers. But you are right, not everyone can carry the weight of such terrible responsibility on their shoulders."

"You do not want to tell me… Do you think I will not understand?"

"Perhaps, you will, but what use will you have for such understanding?"

Gaius recognizes the stubborn expression, but it is too late – she presses her hands to her chest, frantically fiddling with the collar of her dress as if it is stifling her, and her voice trembles.

"I know you think I am ditzy and irresponsible, I know you were annoyed when I showed you Wingul and when I ran away from you, but nevertheless you wanted to see me again. Only Milla is as stubborn as you are. But have you asked yourself, Mr. Perfect-I-Know-It-All-And-If-I-Don't-I-Can- Shoulder -Responsibility-For-My-Mistakes - "

"Humph, I try."

"…Have you asked yourself that your perfection might unnerve me a bit?"

"What if the truth isn't what you expect it to be?"

She shakes her head, "I am not a coward, Arst, and it isn't the truth I fear. I do not understand you and I cannot control you… You're so cold sometimes. But if I knew you more, you would never have to worry about me running away again… Please… "

Gaius closes his eyes and for a moment silence reigns in the room as Musee, unbeknownst to him, regards him with strained attention. He thinks that she remembered what he told her; perhaps she deserves an answer, after all.

"…If you want to know what happened to the real Arst Outway, you have to understand what became of Ajur before I was born," he begins. "Imagine a crippled human body – and maybe it will be hard for you to imagine, but try – whose parts cannot perform designated functions. We had a de jure king, but in truth among the tribe leaders who were never in the state of agreement with each other, his authority was not held in respect. Certain patriarchs possessed as much power as the supreme ruler, if not more, and nurtured ambitions to usurp the throne. Meanwhile the rest of us survived as we could; we built temporary alliances, traded with those unreliable allies and raided the borders of weaker neighbors… It was a time of chaos and confusion. Then Milan, the king of Rashugal died of grave illness, leaving no heir. As his sons fought for the throne, our king seized the opportunity to invade. War broke out like wildfire… By the way, porange juice is in the kitchen if you get thirsty. It will be a long story."

"Won't you get thirsty, too, Arst?"

"Some view you have of me! I am used to delivering long speeches which Wingul wrote for me…"

***o***

_Arrow after arrow, Arst plunged his anger and chagrin into the guiltless wooden target. He lost his royal dignity, behaving himself like a resentful, hurt twelve year old child in front of his father, but when he was told that his victory at the coliseum would not be acknowledged, he flew into a passion without deliberation. He yelled something incoherent and ran off into the nearby forest. They tried to appeal to his reason, explaining to him that the fault was not within him, but to no avail. It was unfair to forget his achievements because his opponent was the heir to the influential clan Shin and the king would not allow a mere child to triumph over the warrior twice his age. He was told his talent was raw and he lacked self-discipline. ''Tis a shameless lie!' He thought with malice, releasing another arrow into the target which bristled with shafts like a porcupine with needles._

_Arst was not afraid he would be found by the menials. He often came here to daydream, watching the sunset and slowly slipping into the surreal world born in his imagination – there he was a king to whose word everyone listened and whose feats were praised in unison; there every merit was rewarded and no wrongdoing remained unpunished; there everyone managed to be happy somehow. There was a reason he built his safe haven in the woods which surrounded the capital city of the Outway tribe – or, rather, a large village which they called their capital for the lack of a better place. Unlike the Londau tribe, they had nothing to boast of; not of the influence in the king's court, not of riches or fertile soils or incredible inventions. Outway clan was one of the poorest in Ajur, but that alone did not diminish Arst's desire to restore its pride and dignity in the famous coliseum at Xian Du where for generations the most powerful warriors fought to death. He thought he would finally help his father gain the power his family deserved, but instead king Merad himself interrupted the contest, forbidding him to take the life of the heir of clan Shin and thus bereaving him of the victory. If honor could be bought and courage bribed, then he had lost altogether. Clan Outway was too poor._

_Another arrow swished, plunging into the man of straw between its eyes and then…_

_"Arst!" He flinched, hearing her voice. "Arst, father asks you to come back! He says he has something important to tell you. He says it is urgent… Arst! I do not want to climb that huge tree!"_

_His younger sister Karla was the only one who knew about the existence of his haven therefore he shouldn't have been surprised she would attempt to find him. But nevertheless he felt slightly betrayed. If his sister didn't understand his indignation, then who would?_

_"When a woman requests something of you, it is only polite to oblige," another voice rang from below and Arst went hot and cold all over. He recognized that voice which belonged to Karla's fiancé, Yael. At the age of eighteen, he was already close to the patriarch of Londau tribe and had a bright future ahead of him, of which he did not fail to remind Arst every time they met. He regarded the heir of the Outway tribe with superiority which did not lack a certain degree of sympathy, but Arst felt only more aggrieved at him for that._

_"Why did you bring him here?" He leaped off the tree with a bow in his hands and flicked away the fringe which fell across his forehead._

_Karla cast down her eyes. "He is family…" She said humbly._

_"She asked me to escort her through the dangerous woods. How can I refuse my fiancée? Don't be such a cheerless bore, Arst. She came all the way to tell you that your venerable father is searching for you and you have my word, he looked worried."_

_"He is not a bore, he is just in a bad mood," his sister took his part, but he didn't need her protection. "He argued with father and father has a short temper."_

_"Every time I see him, he is in bad mood. Last I heard he nearly insulted Lin when our patriarch's son was only five…"_

_"It wasn't an insult," Arst remarked coldly. "If you want to see it as such, by all means, use it as an excuse to challenge me."_

_Yael was taller than him, but he was slender and strong in constitution and didn't fear a single soul in the known realm. After his victory at the coliseum, he felt invincible and in front of his future bride, Yael would not want to appear a coward therefore the fight seemed inevitable until Karla intervened._

_"I will tell father if both of you don't cease this silly argument! You should know, Arst, that we believe you are the winner, we remember you've broken the record and isn't our recognition more important than what those strangers think? I won't let you vent your anger on my fiancé. And you, Yael! You of all people should know how sensitive my brother is in matters which concern his honor and you provoke him unreasonably!" Tears welled up in her eyes and in righteous indignation she pointed at him, then at Yael who stood in silence, ashamed._

_"What use do I have for that acknowledgment? I didn't win the victory for myself, I…"_

_"I don't want to hear you complaining anymore!"_

_"I am not complaining…" Why couldn't his own sister understand what he meant?_

_Yael wrapped his arms around her shaking shoulders. "Now you've upset Karla. You're insufferable. Can't you ever yield, for goodness' sake?"_

_Arst sighed, knowing he had already lost. Although their marriage was arranged, his little sister was smitten by Yael, his charm, his appearance, his bravery – at his age, Arst wasn't supposed to understand all these intricacies, but he somehow did. Despite his position in court, he considered Yael unworthy of Karla's hand, but when he mentioned his misgivings to father, he attributed them to jealousy, not foresight._

_He settled on the lowest branch and looked at the halcyon skies, shielding his eyes from bright sunlight. "Tell father that I won't return until evening."_

_"You aren't good at listening, are you, Arst? As good as your performance at the coliseum was, needn't I remind you that in the upcoming war you will serve under my command?"_

_"It hasn't started yet…"_

_"You are wrong, this is the reason your father summoned you. And if you keep resisting, I will remind you that under the vassal obligation to Londau tribe, you…"_

_"Only a fool boasts of his foolishness," Arst mumbled through clenched teeth. Then he jumped off the tree on the edge of the glade and headed home in silence._

_They lived in a large house which, however, neither in size nor in fortification could be compared to the castles of other clan leaders. Arst had been to El Fe and to Khan Baliq where he had seen these magnificent edifices. On the stairs he was met by Obelin, his father's adviser who was in his late thirties by many perceived a hopeless drunk. Why father kept him by his side remained a mystery to Arst. If he ever were to rule the Outway clan, he had sworn to himself he would never allow idlers and drunkards to be present in his court, regardless of their amicable character and merits of the past. He was led into the large room where his father received guests and held meetings. The furniture in it was decorated with a white-and-yellow flower with thin petals which was commonly known as Maxwell's hand. A map of Ajur hung on the wall opposite from the entrance door._

_Arst fell on one knee and pressed his fist to his chest. "Father."_

_His father chuckled, waving his arm. "What I like about my son are these generous impulses. He can argue with me and show disrespect towards me, but then he comes and demonstrates genuine regret."_

_"Your son has quite the character, I must say," replied Obelin, but by his tone Arst could not judge whether his father's adviser approved of him or not._

_"But this is not the reason why I summoned you here. I am sure Yael blurted it out by now. Ajur has formally declared a war on Rashugal, the letter from the Londau patriarch arrived today. You will meet them at the El Fe and then head to the Fayzabad Plains." His father pointed at the map. "Their army is led by a formidable general Rowen J. Ilbert, a master in his craft who served the royal family for many years. Do not dismiss him lightly, my son."_

_Arst nodded. "We will fight with the Londau tribe as before, won't we?"_

_"You will lead our small forces alone. I think it is time I entrust this duty to you."_

_"Isn't he too young to shoulder such responsibility, my lord?"_

_"No, Obelin, I think I raised him well. His victory at the coliseum proved to me that he can fight. But can he lead? Can he make hard choices? You will leave in a week with him, observe how he performs. And, Arst, do no make me regret this decision."_

_So he had been, to his surprise, chosen to command the infantry of the Outway clan._

_…In the evening, when the sun has hidden for the night and stars strewed the skies as diamond dust, Arst returned to his haven and found Karla waiting for him. A wreath of summer flowers was in her hands. Treading lightly, he approached and put his arm around her shoulders._

_"I am sorry I was rude today," he said._

_"Don't mention it, I wasn't myself either. You fought in the coliseum, then you have to go to war… I am scared, Arst." She put the wreath aside. "But now I do not want to remember sadness; I brought us tea and a shogi board. We can stay here all night, playing and talking, if you want… and if you promise me you will be careful."_

_He grinned, "Don't be silly, Karla. I won the tournament. Of course, I promise you I will come back alive and well."_

***o***

"I didn't know you had a sister," says Musee when he briefly pauses to refresh his memory. "I think if I ever met her, we would get along very well."

"I remember Karla as a cheerful, charming girl, but for too many a reason we had not spoken for years. I cannot tell you how she changed after I left home, whether she would even understand me… I would not blame her if she hadn't forgiven me until this day. Although I do not know… I never asked. After an incident which occurred when I ascended the throne of united Ajur, it was decided that she would have to leave Khan Baliq."

"Did she want to?"

"I didn't let her decide. I could either retire for her sake or ensure her protection and I chose the latter. We have not spoken since." With a barely noticeable frown, Gaius changes the subject, "While I am trying to recall the events of that infamous battle, perhaps, there is a particular question you wanted to ask me."

Musee, humming something incoherent, flies round him. "I want to know… hm… I want… to know…" She freezes in mid air, tilting her head and unwittingly baring her shoulder – a sight he more and more often finds delightful. "What was your most embarrassing adventure?"

"Embarrassing… hm…" Gaius is thoughtful for a moment, then assumes the same imperturbable air. "Even as a child, I could not be easily disconcerted, but… as I recall, there were a few times when I wished the earth could swallow me from shame. One such instance I owe to my little sister, Karla. To this day I cannot quite understand what prompted her to play such a tasteless joke on me… perhaps she did not understand the implications…"

"A joke? Do tell me, please!" There is a familiar mischievous gleam in Musee's eyes and he knows he should tread cautiously on this slippery ground, but at the same time silly stories do not ruin kingdoms or incite hostilities and he sees no harm in telling her one. Besides, he wants to hear her laugh… instead of those who no longer can.

"I believe I was nine when my father finally decided to introduce me to the patriarch of Londau tribe. I mentioned before, Londau tribe had more political influence in court than my family and upon reaching a certain age we had to swear an oath of allegiance to their leader. In particular, it bound us to ally with them when a war broke out… If you recall, Yael once tried to accuse me of insulting Lin who was five at that time and a son of one of the most powerful clan leaders. It was not a deliberate attempt on my behalf to sully his reputation, but I did not deem it necessary to explain the complicated circumstances which led me to make a blunder. I was misguided, that was the truth… But what did I say before? Ah… my sister had a spirit like yours. Dauntless, curious… She accompanied us to El Fe because my father wanted to find a suitable husband for her as soon as possible. It was a tradition to arrange marriages between our families; my mother, too, was from Londau tribe… I was to appear before the patriarch the following day; in the morning, she came to my room and told me I should prepare myself to meet his five-year-old daughter, Lin, and I suspected nothing because I vaguely remembered hearing that name somewhere. You see, in Ajur Lin is not a definitively masculine or feminine name. I felt uneasy the moment I entered the throne room where Londau's patriarch Lars sat in state, but I was a bit naïve back then so I didn't think someone would want to deceive me. I kissed _her_ hand and mumbled my speech, wondering why they would dress a princess in such odd garments, and – only, imagine – the whole hall, crowded with people, some standing, others seated, froze in such stillness that you could hear a fly buzzing by your ear. Every eye was riveted on me; some stared at me in mute horror, others barely stifled giggles and finally laughter rippled over the audience… A merciful soul seized me by the elbow and whispered into my ear, 'You might want to apologize to Master Lin at once'. And then I realized what I had done and felt blood surge to my cheeks… Many years later I asked Wingul if he remembered me calling him a jewel in his father's crown – in ancient times, they only addressed the king's daughters in such a flowery manner… I've made quite an exhibition of myself."

Musee gazes at him, her eyes wide open and her finger pressed to her chin. "Oi…" Then she giggles, awkwardly covering her mouth with her palm. "What did Wingul say?"

"Fortunately, he did not remember. I was punished – I had to pretend I deliberately played a trick on the heir. I had to listen to my father's lecture on responsibility, write a long apology and spend a month on the border with Kitarl tribe, all of which I stoically endured. I took blame for my sister's actions and later she apologized profusely so the issue was settled peacefully."

"But… did Wingul look like a girl?"

"I don't think so. I… don't remember. I know I shouldn't have implicitly trusted Karla..."

Musee smiles, but he cannot guess what she is thinking. "So tell me how Wingul became your subordinate…"

Gaius fastens his eyes on her and a deep frown appears on his forehead; all traces of unconcern vanish from his face and with renewed steel in his voice, he objects, "Haste makes waste, Musee. Long before that, there was a battle on Fayzabad Plains… and months of hopeless search thereafter."

***o***

_Arst's eyes swept the horizon and returned to the glistening sea of human bodies which swashed at the bottom of the cliff whereat he stood. The army of Ajur gathered to meet invaders from Rashugal in all its glory; banners were flapping in the wind as far as the eye could see, boasting of valor and splendor – in the distance, flew the proud eagle of Shin and the mighty dragon of Londau and in front of him fluttered the snow leopard of Aktau. Everyone came with the exception of Kitarl tribe, for they bore a grudge against Londau, but Arst was not worried. Many smaller clans, like his, answered the king's call to arms when their leaders were offered a cause to unite. The Outway clan would never rise against Londau even if the king commanded them, but against a foreign enemy they would wage a war freed of both moral and legal constraints._

_"Rowen J. Ilbert," he whispered under his breath with seriousness unbefitting to a twelve year old child, but long ago it occurred to him that he had grown up much faster than his peers. "Tell me, Obelin, what do you think this renowned strategist will do? That cluster of hills to our left may become the most vital part of the battlefield because whoever has it, wins."_

_The sky was without a cloud and sun shone brightly in his face. How he loved the sun of Ajur…_

_"I don't know, young master. Ilbert isn't the kind of general who shows a clean pair of heels once he loses ground," cheerfully echoed his father's adviser. "Our best bet is to defeat them face to face with superior force."_

_"Ha-ha! You have neither the imagination of an artist, nor the shrewd mind of a strategist. The objective of a war is not to destroy utterly, but to subdue. Remember, how elegantly – how simply but elegantly – our ancestor defeated Rashugal in a naval battle near Sapstrath Seahaven. Deception is one of the oldest weapons of war… How much do you want to bet that I will be able to destroy the right flank of Rashugal army?"_

_"It's a bold assertion…"_

_Arst easily laughed and gestured towards the hill to his right. "No, truly, you are not perceptive. Look over there! Nature provides us with a perfect cover… if we advance quietly, we will be able to take them by surprise. The maneuver won't win us this battle, it won't win the war, but it will give us a certain advantage."_

_He stood on tiptoe, then sank back in strange trance; compressing his lips, he futilely tried to understand why on such a sunny day his heart had been heavy since early morning. Fear could not be the sole reason – he faced great challenges before and emerged victorious. But that day he felt a presence of a dark cloud on a cloudless sky. Overcome with anxiety, Arst barely kept his attention riveted on the conversation with Obelin, but his father's adviser was too blind to notice his mood. And the nature was so deceptively quiet…_

_The low, imperious sound of a war drum resounded across the valley, invading his thoughts; once, then twice it shook the firmament and ended on a shrill note of a horn, signaling the beginning of battle. Arst flung himself into the saddle and without looking back to see whether Obelin followed, galloped towards the main encampment of the Londau clan. Wind ruffled his black hair and tousled his long cloak. He was in his element whereas a lot of his subordinates, he noticed, appeared frightened and even Yael changed countenance although he tried to conceal his fear by fretting over his delay. Arst ignored his complaints, guided his steed to the front and galloped along the still line of footsoldiers. He did not distinguish between his subordinates and Londau vassals, addressing everyone who could hear him. Lively, brazen, skillfully holding back his restive steed, he attracted gazes even when he was twelve and many were willing to listen to him._

_"I know you are afraid," he shouted, unsheathing his long sword. "But look at me! I, too, tremble from fear." Here Arst acted a bit against his conscience. "I, too, know that many of us will die today. Perhaps, I will perish honorably with them. But our sworn enemy awaits us. I say – we stand unshakably! I say – today we prevail! Desperation turns eagles into vultures. Let us not despair and if it is our time to fall, we will die like eagles!"_

_Perhaps among those who listened to the future king could be found skeptics, who deemed him to be a young romantic, but in the face of death not even words inspired courage, but the conviction with which they were spoken. And so the footsoldiers brandished their weapons with a roar and drew forward. Two dark lines with the swiftness and inevitability of avalanche rushed towards each other._

_Arst was in the heart of battle. His horse fell in the first skirmish, pierced by an arrow, but he continued fighting on foot. His maneuver proved to be a small success when Rashugal footsoldiers, taken by surprise, withdrew towards the center in utter disarray, spreading fear and causing disorder. Arst's sword tasted blood, but he fought with even more frenzy than during the tournament and blood which stained him was not his own. He did not know what transpired on the rest of the battlefield until a mounted messenger from the Londau patriarch miraculously delivered him the inauspicious news. The center of Ajur army seemed to be in a stalemate with Rashugal forces, the left flank faltered after general Ilbert directed his cavalry against clan Shin and even their mighty warriors could not withstand the charge. Having pondered over the somewhat unfavorable development, Arst decided not to pursue his fickle success on the right flank, but to obey Lars's orders and aid the Londau clan. The results exceeded his expectations. Although their left flank almost collapsed, a breach appeared in the center and the Londau tribe drove a wedge into the enemy's defenses and Rashugal soldiers wavered. At the same time, general Ilbert withdrew for no apparent reason, providing them with an opportunity to surround their forces._

_And then Arst felt the ground shake beneath his feet which at first did not alarm him much, only made him wonder what could cause those light tremors. He glanced round, noticing that the horses and other beasts they trained for battle behaved strangely; suddenly they, as one, decided to disobey their masters. Horses pranced, filling the air with shrill neigh, a dozen wyverns – all they could get without Kitarl's support – which carried archers on their backs disappeared from his view, and instead hundreds upon hundreds little black dots covered the sky and obscured the sun. Upon scrutinizing such an unusual phenomena, Arst with his eagle eyes discerned birds which were fleeing somewhere in panic. His attention was diverted elsewhere in the most inopportune moment and a faceless Rashugal footsoldier with whom Arst only a moment ago fought equally upended him, scratching his shoulder with a spear. Pain returned him to his senses and, thrusting his sword into the enemy's stomach, he drew himself to full height. Obelin was dauntlessly fending off foes with the wind artes – miraculously, they did not get separated in the heated battle. Having ordered his father's adviser to lead the Outway forces into victory without him, Arst found a young black stallion which thew off his rider in frenzy and contrived to quiet him down so that the animal would let him climb onto his back without protest._

_When Arst rode up the hill where the main marquee was set up, the Londau patriarch, seeing the success of their maneuver, was preparing to join the battle with his remaining forces. Arst alighted and addressed him respectfully but fearlessly although in full armor, decorated with a red dragon, the patriarch presented a rather impressive sight._

_"Master Lars, I have urgent news from the battlefield. I ask you to hear me out before you ride out there and possibly doom our army."_

_Lars Londau threw a glance at the battlefield, at the churning, boiling sea of human bodies, and bent the brows. "Now is not a good time, but I'll listen to what you have to say... Outway? Arst Outway, isn't it?"_

_Upon entering the largest and the most luxurious marquee he had ever seen, Arst momentarily felt faint and confused; the patriarchs of three largest clans gathered around the table on which lay a map and a strategy board. "Speak quickly, Outway, I don't have all day," Lars ordered him irritably and patriarchs, quitting their seats, together with their vassals, who crowded behind their seats, fixed their eyes on him at once._

_"According to the ancient tradition of the Outway clan," Arst said firmly, surprising himself, "there exists a way to predict certain natural disasters and, in particular, tsunamis. If the earth trembles, and animals flee every which way in fear, then it is said a man should follow."_

_"How old are you, boy, to speak of ancient tradition?" Asked the patriarch of clan Shin mockingly._

_"I could have sworn I felt tremors earlier!" Exclaimed a young and sprightly leader of clan Wi who had only recently inherited the power from his deceased father. "And then I've seen birds, thousands of them, fleeing to the south and I wondered what kind of ill omen it was. I think we should listen to him..."_

_"Your superstition is a talk of the town from Xian Du to Khan Baliq," Lars Londau twisted his lips in a contemptuous grimace. "The severity of your assertion, son, is such that we may forfeit our victory today! I can't risk the chance to conquer Rashugal for incoherent gibberish about earth tremors and fleeing birds. So think twice and thrice before you insist on telling us tales..."_

_"It's not just birds," Arst tried to explain. "Look outside, the wyverns are gone, too. Horses and beasts disobey their masters as if we have all of a sudden lost our ability to control them. It's not a coincidence, a tsunami is approaching from the sea... If it washes over the Fayzabad Plains, we won't have an army." By the time he finished speaking, Arst was pleading._

_"Do you suggest we retreat, boy?" Patriarch of clan Shin roared with laughter. "In your cowardice you are ready to listen to every greenhorn who opened his mouth. What can he know? We're gonna get out there and crush those bastards and drink well afterwards."_

_Arst would say that he knew enough to defeat his son in the tournament, but abstained from interference for the success of his daring endeavor depended on how respectful and persuasive he could appear in their eyes._

_"But what if there is a tsunami heading our way... I'm not going out there!" The young patriarch of Wi exclaimed, scandalized. "I value my own life greatly!"_

_"What of the people who fight for you? Think of how many lives would be lost... Do they not matter to this gathering at all?!"Indignation enlivened the pale bloody mask of his face._

_"Our land gives birth to those commoners by a dozen each day. No harm will be done if a few of them don't come back."_

_Arst clenched his fists, but Lars came to his aid before, in a fit of anger, he would ruin everything he has just achieved. "I've glanced outside and all wyverns had indeed vanished from the sky. It's very unlikely that we lost control of every single beast simultaneously... You said it could be a tsunami, Arst? Hm..."_

_If only he knew the words which would convince the patriarch, Arst thought bitterly; it seemed to him a simple matter of finding the right words._

_"Venerable patriarchs, I suggest we should not listen to anything this boaster says," a young man stepped out of the throng of vassals and Arst in utter befuddlement recognized Yael._

_"Boaster?"_

_"Don't you recognize him? He is the one who tried to say that he won the recent tournament in Xian Du. And now he tries to earn your approval by lying to you while on the battlefield general Ilbert's faint-heartedness had provided us with a once in a lifetime opportunity to subjugate our sworn enemy!"_

_"I knew I've seen him somewhere! Ha-ha! I told Merad the boy was trouble, we should have gotten rid of him as soon as he tried to cheat my son out of his deserved victory."_

_Arst blushed poignantly, "Yael, why are you doing this to me, to Karla, to those who serve you faithfully?"_

_"Wait, what about wyverns? We can't explain their behavior."_

_"Venerable patriarchs, if you are worried about the slight possibility he might be correct, I would suggest not to leave the marquee. Our army should pull off victory without your presence. If you send the rest of our forces at once, no tsunami will hinder you from winning for the water should not reach the top of this hill."_

_"I think I can agree, it seems the most sensible decision in these circumstances," enthusiastically said Lars. "There are many explanations for the animals' behavior which we did not consider. And you, son, frightened us muchly. We let our fear rule our hearts, not reason... Order to signal the advance, Yael, and since you seem so unconcerned with Arst's words, you will lead them in my stead..."_

_"I won't let you," objected Arst, taking a step backwards. "I will save whoever I can myself. Servants should not suffer for their master's idiocy and stubbornness."_

_"Who do you call fools, insolent boy?! Take him away, do not let him frighten my soldiers."_

_Three or four lancers skirted him, their weapons threateningly directed towards him. "Yael," he appealed to Karla's fiancé again. "Have I ever asked anything of you? Now I ask… no, I beg you… I beg you! Please…Alone I can't…"_

_Then, seeing that his words did not produce a desired effect, Arst felt a surge of strength. Having shoved one of the lancers aside, he made a desperate lunge towards the entrance and flung himself into the saddle. An archer shot at him, missed, and himself like an arrow, Arst flew towards the battlefield where the tide had finally turned for Ajur army._

_But the patriarch of Londau tribe could not allow for such trifle as a life of one young boy to ruin his triumph. He snatched the bow from the archer's hands, aimed carefully and released an arrow, taking into consideration light wind which blew from the north. Arst's horse suddenly reared and, falling, he noticed a black shaft in its croup. Somehow he climbed from underneath the agonizing animal without a grave injury; somehow he crawled onto a mound and from there he witnessed the disaster occur._

_The headway of Rashugal cavalry on their left flank was stalled and when Londau's fresh forces advanced in the center, they could not offer much resistance. Then – and everyone felt it – the ground underneath the plains shook, horses and people fell, formations broke, lines blurred when figures in crimson and white in perplexity turned their gazes at the sky. There was a moment of absolute stillness. And then somewhere overhead a roar was heard, low, threatening sound sweeping over the battlefield, and like an enormous ten-headed monster came into sight the contours of the tidal wave. Dark, shapeless, it devoured the distance between the shore and the battlefield with incredible speed. Trees, hills, small huts of fishermen fell prey to its insatiable hunger easily, not for a moment delaying its wrath. The battle ceased. Those who but a heartbeat ago would willingly in the heat of the moment slit each other's throats threw their weapons aside and scattered across the Fayzabad valley. They tried to escape, but were overtaken by the turbid wave which washed them away from the surface of the earth and continued its triumphant march; the only true victor that day._

_There was something morbidly alluring in the grandiose advent of the disaster, however of those final moments Arst did not remember much; he was running as he was never running in his life, swallowing the fire in his lungs. He had no time to be afraid or to worry over the fate of the rest of his soldiers or to utter incoherent prayers as some of his unreasonable brothers did. He mindlessly ran, and when the wave had finally overflowed him, he managed to stay afloat. Its rage abated, it still posed considerable danger to him as the stream carried along large logs, corpses and debris. Choking on salty water, numb to any pain, Arst fought for his life against the force of unfathomable might. When he finally struggled out of the water – not due to any particularly heroic effort on his part, rather because the torrent mercifully released him – he could not walk. Coughing, he fell onto the wet ground in a fit of shivers, which then subsided to heavy breathing. Darkness lapped against the edges of his consciousness, weakness spread through his body, crippling him as it often happened after inhuman overstrain. Scraps and shreds of thoughts were swarming in his brain, but he could not clutch at any one, could not rest on any one, in spite of all his efforts. He had survived and everything else made no nevermind to him._

_So he lay for a long time. Now and then he seemed to wake up and in such moments he noticed it was far into the night, but it did not occur to him to rise or make a fire. Soon he started shivering from cold and blood loss, but the few feet he managed to crawl did not help him warm up or find food. By the time the green light had branded the horizon oblivion overcame him for the second time and he succumbed to dreamless slumber._

_He woke up from the light touch of warm sunrays on his cheek; vanquishing weakness, he managed to assume an upright position and glanced round. A lake surrounded the small island he was stranded on, swashing by his feet, and now and then corpses drifted by with indifference he was beginning to envy. It rained at night and in the puddles he found enough fresh water to quench his thirst. He had nothing to eat to restore some of his strength he needed to swim across this new body of water; however Arst knew delirium and weakness were bound to return and therefore he decided to venture leaving his shelter in search of food. By noon, guided by nothing but intuition and luck, he found another island – large and dry – but as he cautiously approached it, he discovered he was not alone. A small fire kindled on rocks which shielded a man who somehow seemed familiar. Upon scrutinizing him, Arst realized that indeed he knew that man from before, but he would rather die from hunger than spend even a day in his vicinity. However, Yael had already noticed him; uttering a startled shriek, he immediately outstretched his arm and pulled him out of the water._

_"Arst! Merciful heavens, it is you, Arst! How glad I am to see you!" He exclaimed, bustling about him like an overprotective mother. "When the wave washed over us, I thought no one survived. Frankly, I don't know how I did, but somehow… I am here now, aren't I?"_

_His long dark hair smirched with dirt, his face bruised, his sister's fiancé presented a rather deplorable sight, but Arst felt no pity for him. Moving his bloodless lips, he only asked, "And patriarch Lars?"_

_"The patriarch is alive," Yael echoed with downcast eyes. "They found refuge on the hill and the water never got to them. But the rest of our soldiers... they drowned. Horses became rabid and dragged them under water... How terrible, how terrible!"_

_He kept mumbling incomprehensible sentences, trembling all over. Arst moved closer to the fire, stretched his arms towards the blessed warmth and his vision momentarily blurred. Then he stirred, shaking off fatigue, and turned his attention to Yael again. Karla's fiancé appeared more helpless than a child, but upon taking a closer look, Arst understood that he was the reason behind his bizarre behavior, not so much the trials of the last twelve hours, not so much the gloomy prospects of near future – after all, the army of Ajur ceased to exist. Of the forty thousand most talented, disciplined warriors and simple peasants recruited for the war only scraps remained, but no, Yael was fidgety and unhinged solely because of him._

_"What can I do for you, Arst? Are you wounded? Hungry? I have some food, not much, but…I found supplies, mostly moldy, but there is bread and dried veal which you can have. What am I talking about? You can have it all!"_

_"Why?"_

_"W-what do you mean? Why, why? You need food… and I already ate…"_

_Arst fixed his eyes on him and mercilessly explained, "Why didn't you support me? I came to the patriarch to prevent the disaster, to save the lives of my people – of our people – but it was all in vain because you did not listen to me! Why?"_

_"I-I don't understand what you are talking about…"_

_Arst felt a surge of profound hatred which overlaid all other feelings. "Look around you! There, you see? A corpse with an eagle on his breastplate. A warrior of clan Shin. And there, by his side, a Londau archer… All faceless, nameless, dead. Because you did not listen to reason! Lars Londau was willing to lend me an ear, but you dissuaded him!"_

_Yael fell on his knees, whimpering like a child, tears streaming down his face. "Why are you doing this to me? Yes, it is my fault, do you want to hear me confess? I am a hopeless fool! I should have listened to your words, but I haven't… I should have died, but I haven't… I am a failure, Arst. Do you think I do not know what I am? Or my torment is not cruel enough? Why do you have to remind me times and times again how my reputation is ruined? What will I say to Karla? How will I look into the eyes of all those widows… oh, merciful heavens, why do you have to remind me?!" He clutched his head in both palms and screamed in frenzy._

_But Arst was not satisfied. "You did not listen to me because I am young and naïve and inexperienced. Is that the truth?"_

_"Truth, truth… no, the truth is much more unpleasant than anything you can think of. We were winning, Arst! You saw it… Rashugal army wavered; we were so close to victory. How cruel is my fate? I already imagined myself at the head of a triumphant procession entering through the gates of El Fe… and Karla meeting me with a smile… I wanted glory and recognition and there you were, giving it all away to me because of some madness that had poisoned your mind. Where is my glory now? I am ruined! Ruined! And Karla will not want to marry a wretched fool like me… Why would she? Why would she carry the unbearable burden of my shame?"_

_Arst felt suffocated. His fingers of their own volition found a stone, clutched it with such force that its sharp edges cut into his palm and when Yael in his pitiful lamentations turned his gaze towards the sky, he struck. His sister's fiancé cried out, but very faintly and fell flat with a smashed temple, yet Arst dealt him another blow and another until blood gushed forth onto his hand. Then he froze and, coming to his senses, wiped his fingers on the grass. Only perplexity reflected in Yael's eyes, eternal, haunting question forever imprinted in their depths. Why? He murdered thousands of his people for a meaningless cause and he could not even bear the shame with dignity. Feeling sick and hollow, Arst pushed the body into the stream and it disappeared under water with a splash._

_And stillness returned, undisturbed._

***o***

"…I broke a promise I gave to my sister," Gaius concludes his tale in the same toneless voice. He on purpose omitted the part in which he murdered Karla's fiancé; it was the truth which would die with him. But the rest… he told Musee everything. "I gave her my word I would come back, but I failed… The Arst who returned after weeks of wandering across the desolated wasteland wasn't the person she knew although it took months for the changes to manifest themselves in full. I was angry, I was consumed by doubts, questioning my every step, I was… lost. My world had collapsed onto itself, like a burning castle previously built of firm rock meant to stand unshakably for years, and I spent hours, arguing with myself over the obvious flaws in the way the tribes were ruled, over my role in the future of my country, over my duty to my family… Too early I learned an invaluable lesson that without power, no one would lend an ear to my opinion. Too early I learned that achievements could be erased; that truth and wisdom were enslaved by demands of the mighty and nothing was fair and free. That form of government which relied on delegation of power to the members of one dynasty for generations was self-defeating and yet only I seemed to notice it. The history with the tidal wave repeated itself, but this time it gradually swept over me until I was anew choking under water, struggling to remain afloat. Enlightenment is akin to a deadly poison, from it there is no cure."

"Later," he continues with a faraway look, "I understood I was not entirely correct. It is easy to believe on the initial stages of growth, as your self-awareness develops, that every conclusion you derived from the aggregate of raw evidence is… unique. Hm, too easy… In truth, many saw what I did, but not many were willing to seek a solution and act resolutely. My superiority did not necessarily manifest itself in the way I thought, but in my determination and strength of will. As numbers of my followers rapidly swelled, I made another invaluable discovery: people are happier without indecision. They are happier when most choices presented before them are illusory, when they clutch at the belief that they decide their fate while subtly it has long been determined for them."

"By someone like yourself," she finishes his thought quietly and her eyes brim in semi-darkness with an emotion he does not yet understand. "But…"

"You are beginning to see the unsolvable paradox. I introduced a new system of values into Ajur society, but to adhere to it, I had to sacrifice my happiness, prioritizing the whole over myself. Ruling a country, I cannot consider the fate of one part to be more important than integrity; I cannot be guided by personal interests... yet at times, it is only myself and my convictions that I can rely on. It is a very narrow, slippery path, that which I had walked upon for far too long… I would lie if I said that from the beginning I understood everything as lucidly as I do now. Choosing the name Gaius, I rejected Arst Outway…but for a while, I see it now, it was an empty name."

"I don't wish to believe you! Deep inside you're still Arst Outway and if you decide to retire, he will return…"

"It is an empty sentiment… In the face of unpleasant truth, it is easy to deceive yourself with a comfortable lie, but it is a weakness. Arst would never abandon his sister or without a moment's hesitation choose to sacrifice Lin's life for his own. He would compromise whereas I acted mercilessly." Gaius does not raise his voice or otherwise show anger or discontent, but she nevertheless shrivels under his harsh immovable stare. "Do not make a mistake, judging me..."

Musee looks dispirited, humbled, but only momentarily. Finding inner strength, she implicitly challenges him although he expects acceptance. "Then let me compromise… for you."

"How?" He inquires, intrigued.

"Although I did not know you before… everything happened, you told me enough about Arst Outway. He will be alive," she touches her temple, "albeit in my memories only."

A smile appears on Gaius's face – reserved, but nevertheless a smile. Somehow she had found the correct words. "Yes," he says," I can allow that."

She reaches to him, twines her arms around his shoulders and presses herself to his chest. "They should have listened to you… It's so awful that they didn't. But it wasn't your fault, you are… amazing."

"Am I, truly?" He teases her.

Under his intense stare, so obviously inviting that she blushes to the roots of her hair, Musee moves away, but remains curled up on his lap, and he resists a desire to kiss her out of apprehension to frighten her off. The thought of chasing the peevish Spirit all over Trigraph seems unattractive in all respects.

"So… when are you going to tell me how you met Wingul?"

"Kneeling in front of me in liquid dirt, his arms outstretched pleadingly, disheveled, he rather resembled a beggar than a king, but at the age of thirteen he was a more dignified king than most…" Gaius's smile fades. "But that happened a few years after I left home…"


End file.
